Past Tense
by hotpink
Summary: The story of a man whose death affected more than his life. Complete story.


**Title:** Past Tense  
**Author:** hotpink  
**Distribution:** Archive freely, with headers attached.  
**Rating:** G  
**Category:** General  
**Spoilers:** Future Tense  
**Summary:** The story of a man whose death affected more than his life.  
**Disclaimer:** Star Trek and associated characters belong to Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.

**Author's Note:** Not exactly a story of Enterprise; rather it's a story of the Enterprise universe.

* * *

It was different, back here.

Tollus was used to an organized galaxy, where the subspace bands echoed with chatter and this area of space was busy with shipping routes and cargo ships. Only a hundred light years out from Earth, it was part of Earth's neighborhood, crowded with solar systems which had warp capabilities. Depending on the technology of their ships, travelers could pass through this area in hours or seconds, or simply bypass it altogether via a time/space slip. Their galaxy felt small--was small. There was little left unknown, little to explore.

That was why the thinkers, the explorers, and eventually the warriors, had turned to time.

But here, despite the ship which allowed him to slip through time and space in the blink of an eye, he could feel the vastness that surrounded him. Few species had discovered the subspace bands, so they echoed only with radiation static. As he studied their primitive ships, crawling across great distances at sublight or low warp, he had begun to understand the challenges that space had once offered, and appreciate what courage things that he did so casually had once required.

He had also come to understand a mindset he had once found strange and counter-initiative. In this time, too many people could not look outside themselves, look into the depths of space and accept the differences in what might look back. No culture had had the hundreds of years of exposure, the concept that their species was just one of many in a wide galaxy, that allowed the development of this automatic acceptance. Even the most advanced of the spacefaring races had barely begun to recognize these prejudices.

In preparation for his solo field studies, he had spent some time with a historical tutor on Vulcan, experiencing one of the cultures which--in its future--had heavily influenced his own life. Even with his knowledge of how the Vulcan culture had dramatically changed over the next hundred years, the ways in which his people had altered their perceptions of the universe and their relation to that universe, these Vulcans had startled him.

He had lived and studied within cities he knew well, cities that had barely changed in thousand years and would barely change over a thousand more, and found himself a stranger. The limited outlook, veiled xenophobia, and arrogance of the people and culture had upset and distressed him.

In his time, he had worked with Vulcans who pushed the boundaries of science, who contributed to the exploration of time and space to the furthest extent of their abilities and their intellect. His great-grandmother had been a noted temporal scientist within the Science Directorate, and had supported his interest in historical studies throughout his life. Nobody, within the Directorate or the universities of Earth, would look kindly on those who tried to tell them what were appropriate and inappropriate fields of study.

Now he had experienced a culture which put limits on scientific exploration, which preferred what was already known over what could be investigated and discovered. He had found a world which desperately needed change, needed revolution in order to move forward. He had learned firsthand why all historians considered the intrusion of human emotion and culture upon Vulcan to be the most important culture impact since the teachings of Surak: without the cultural upheaval that humans caused, Vulcan could have stagnated for hundreds of years more. That had both sorrowed and inspired him.

While Tollus had at first viewed the requirement to stay with an experienced tutor prior to embarking on his field studies an imposition, he had come to appreciate the knowledge it granted him. His weeks on Vulcan were not really about learning anything new about that particular time and place, but about reinforcing the idea that even the cultures that shaped his life would be different. That he was now living within a different, more primitive time. He had gratefully accepted that knowledge, as he moved forward into his own chosen studies.

Despite its primitive aspects, he knew it was a good time in history--the time just before a cusp, before an acceleration in science, diplomacy, and exploration which had eventually overwhelmed the entire galaxy. The next few centuries were perhaps the best-studied periods of history, the centuries of development which had made both his existence, and the existence of his society possible.

Yet, this was a time not deeply understood. Later centuries had been analyzed thoroughly, and each decision path which lead to each history-altering event was charted and understood in depth. Only recently had time historians come to admit the incompleteness of some of those paths--the connections that extended back years and centuries earlier, to the time when humans had barely set foot into the wider universe and the Federation wasn't even conceived of as a possibility.

Of course, that realization had come at a time when the temporal cold war had extended its grasp to encompass even this time period, when history needed to be understood in order to be protected.

Pre-Federation decision paths had become his field of study, out of a desire to do something interesting and useful. He had even chosen to step a little differently than fellow historians, taking his inquires into 'deep' space rather than immersing himself in current events on Earth, Vulcan, and Andoria. Despite his training, he was a researcher, not a soldier. Especially after his shocks on Vulcan, he did not desire the complications associated with hands-on research and direct involvement in historical events. There were too many risks.

Over the past several months, he had instead focused upon studying the cultures visited by Enterprise during her early years, cultures that, due to their nearness to Earth, would eventually become part of the core of the Federation. Investigating their histories and social structures before they were exposed to humans and to all that humans came to represent.

He hoped that once his initial studies were concluded, he would be permitted to do annual evaluations of his chosen cultures, exploring their internal changes against the external changes that overtook their sector of the galaxy. Allowing him to study generations blossoming out of physical and cultural containment and becoming citizens of a wider galaxy. He believed that it would be at least a multi-decade survey, something that could occupy him for several real decades of his lifespan. Even with their ability to slip through time and space, thought and research still required real time to process.

The ship computer chimed at him, and as he emerged from his thoughts, it said "Data collection and storage completed."

He nodded, and took one last look at the planet below him. It turned lazily, ringed by some artificial satellites which occasionally glinted with light from its yellow star. He did a brief skim through the master list of information the computer had collected, and selected the coordinates for the next planetary system.

"Computer, jump," he ordered.

"Jump in progrreessss . . . " The computer's response suddenly morphed and distorted, trailing off into a whine. His displays went dark, flashed back to life with the wail of his alert sirens, then went dark again.

In that last flash of his displays, he caught a glimpse of data indicating complete system failure, including that of the temporal containment field. While one part of his mind froze before the utter impossibility of that occurrence, another part recognized the only logical conclusion.

His ship had been compromised by one of the temporal cold war factions, intentionally disrupted in such a fashion as to leave the ship lost in the twenty-second century. As he felt his body going numb, nerve endings disrupted by sudden and extreme exposure to temporal radiation, he knew that there was no way to save himself.

He tried to activate the temporal signal beacon, but it failed to respond. Either it had been intentionally damaged along with his other systems, or its parts had begun to disintegrate in the temporal radiation.

As his eyesight clouded over and his body functions began to fail, his displays flickered back to life once more, indicating the partial restoration of the temporal containment field. At least his ship wouldn't be drifting across the sector leaving large swaths of temporally-disturbed space in its wake. Now, if only the majority of the ship's hull had withstood the temporal radiation burst, its stealth capabilities would still be in place and even those who would be looking for it would find it impossible to locate.

If it hadn't, he feared the damage it could cause. It was certainly different, back here. But power struggles which encompassed time and space could ruin them all.

*The End*


End file.
